Deadly Kisses by Brenda Joyce Read Free Book Online Page B

abandoned and unloved, first by Lily, and then, by his biological father. As foolish as it seemed, he had never been able to forgive Rick for being the wanted one, the favored one, the loved one.
    And as children so often do, he had searched for Lily’s and then Rathe’s approval in a backward way, his behavior wild and out of bounds, testing first his mother and then his stepfather. But he hadn’t really wanted to push everyone away—he had just wanted to be loved, in spite of who he was.
    Francesca knew Hart had not been aware of what he was doing as a small boy or a rowdy adolescent. Yet she had come to realize that his behavior as a mature and powerful man was really no different than that little boy’s. He claimed not to care what anyone thought of him, and he was well aware of his black reputation, but Francesca thought he did care—and that he refused to admit it, not even to himself. He refused to conform to the rules and mores of proper society; he had flaunted his lovers, many of whom were divorcées, and he displayed the most shocking and controversial art. Behind his back, society gossiped in absolute fascination. Hart laughed about it, but it was as if he had to see just how far he could go before being cast out. There had been difficult times when he had tried to push her away, as well. But Francesca understood that his actions were a test—a test of her loyalty, her friendship and her devotion. She was never going to fail.
    There was another aspect to Hart’s rivalry with his half brother. The two men were as different as night and day. Rick had given his life to social and political reform, even at the expense of his marriage. His reputation was as stellar as Hart’s was not; he would never flaunt an indiscretion or compromise anyone’s reputation. Hart was only accepted in good society because of his wealth and power. Rick was accepted not just because he was from that acclaimed family, but because he was a leader of thereform movement, universally respected and admired for all of his good works. No two men could be more different—on the surface, at least.
    It also did not help that, when she had first met Hart, she and Rick had been romantically involved. Hart remained jealous of the fact that she had chosen Rick before him and that she maintained a genuine friendship with him. Rick clearly loved his wife, and Francesca often felt he would not mind her engagement—as long as it was to anyone other than Hart. She sighed. She could not undo the past. She could not stop caring about Rick Bragg and she could not stop loving Hart. Their rivalry had begun decades before either man had ever met her, but she was aware of being added fuel to the fire.
    Francesca pushed open her window. The night was cool but pleasant; a few stars had come out to join the crescent moon. She felt a soft summer breeze and she let it caress her face. She was so worried about this case and where the investigation would take her.
    Suddenly the other passenger door opened and Hart climbed into the backseat beside her, taking her hand. “Are you cold? Why are you waiting here, when you could be inside?”
    Francesca met his dark gaze and tried to smile at him. “It can be so noisy in the lobby. I have a head ache,” she said truthfully.
    His smile faded as the carriage rumbled away from the curb. He put his arm around her. “It has been a terrible evening,” he said quietly. “I wish you hadn’t been here tonight, Francesca.”
    She looked up at his face, at the strong and attractive features she had come to love, acutely aware of his powerful embrace. “I’m glad I was here,” she said passionately. “You are not going through this alone!”
    â€œFrancesca, I know you mean well. You always mean well,” he said roughly, and he smiled. “But this affair is already a sordidone. I have never asked you before to cease an